


A Proposition

by jenny_of_oldstones



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, M/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21625630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenny_of_oldstones/pseuds/jenny_of_oldstones
Summary: Aveline and Donnic invite Fenris and Hawke to dinner. They have an unexpected request.
Relationships: Donnic Hendyr/Aveline Vallen, Fenris/Male Hawke
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

"Did Aveline seem nervous when she invited us to dinner?" asked Hawke. He and Fenris stood outside the front door of Aveline and Donnic's house in the merchant district. Kids were racing each other up and down the steep, narrow street, and a lamplighter was raising his taper to the glass globes. The autumn air was cool, and a breeze stirred the high collars of their cloaks. "I saw her at the guard barracks today, and she practically hid behind a coatrack."

"She did seem preoccupied," said Fenris. "Donnic has been acting strangely as well." 

"You don't think they're going to invite us into their bed, do you?" asked Hawke.

"Donnic perhaps, Aveline, no." Fenris raised an eyebrow. "Why, are you hoping they will?" 

"Don't be vile. Are you?" 

"I am content with my current arrangement," said Fenris, "his lack of table manners notwithstanding."

They smiled at each other. Fenris had combed his hair out of his eyes for once, and the lines of his face were so familiar that Hawke wanted nothing more than to trace them with his fingers. It was still hard to believe after all these years that he had won the affections of this beautiful creature. 

The sound of footsteps approached through the door. "Fifty silvers say they're going to ask us to swing," whispered Hawke. 

The door swung open, and Aveline stood on the threshold in her finest tunic.

"You came." Aveline's smile was so tight that it was hard to tell if she was glad about it. 

Hawke glanced at Fenris, and said, "May we-"

"Oh, yes, come in. You've been here before, so." Aveline retreated deeper into the house. Fenris stepped into the antechamber and unclasped his cloak.

"Fifty silvers," said Hawke.

"I'm not taking that bet," said Fenris. 

* * *

Dinner was just as tense as Hawke suspected it would be. Donnic and Aveline spared no expense with the food, but the conversation was strained. Aveline was as stilted and awkward as Hawke had ever seen her, and Donnic couldn't seem to stop wiping his mouth with his napkin.

"This wine is elegant," said Fenris, swirling his glass. "A Ghislain white?"

"That's what the merchant told me, though it could be grape juice for all I know," said Donnic. 

"It compliments the trout. You chose well."

"Great." Donnic cleared his throat. 

Hawke pushed butternut squash around his plate. "Is this a new dining table?" 

"Donnic's brother made it for us," said Aveline. "He's with the woodcrafter's guild. It's solid oak." 

Hawke rapped his knuckles on the varnished surface. "Swell." 

They chewed loudly by candlelight.

"Why don't I get the dessert?" Aveline pushed her chair back. "Donnic, will you help me?" 

"Of course." He tossed his napkin down and followed her into the kitchen. 

As soon as their footsteps had receded, Hawke whispered, "nevermind swinging, they're going to carve us up and dump us in the harbor." 

Fenris kicked him under the table. The candles flickered as Aveline and Donnic bustled back into the room. Aveline set down a plate of sugared pears drizzled in syrup, and Donnic set down a plate of aged blue cheese with crackers.

"Tart and savory," said Aveline, sitting back down and smoothing her napkin over her lap. "Just like you two."

It was the closest to natural as Aveline had sounded all evening. "More like sweet and savory." Hawke speared himself a pear and moved it onto his plate. He rolled back the frill of his sleeve to keep it from getting in the syrup. "I'm a peach."

"A peach with a wasp inside it," murmured Fenris into his glass.

They all chuckled at that, and the tension in the room relaxed a little. 

"Actually," said Aveline. "There is something we wanted to discuss with you two." 

"You don't say." Hawke cut off a slice of his pear. "You've only been wringing your hands and wincing like you're about to pass a stone." 

"It's no small thing," said Aveline. "We've decided to have a baby." 

Hawke blinked. That was the last thing he expected. 

Fenris was not so easily perturbed. "Congratulations." He smiled and raised his glass. "We are both more than happy for you." 

"I thought you didn't want children," said Hawke. 

"I didn't," said Aveline, "but things change."

"What about being Guard-Captain? Wasn't that your dream?" asked Hawke.

"It still is," said Aveline. "I'm not about to desert my post for anything, even this." 

"Well, congratulations, then," said Hawke.

Aveline bit her lip. She was still nervous. 

"If you're wondering if Fenris and I will take care of your baby if anything happens to the two of you, we will," said Hawke. 

"Of course," said Fenris. 

"That's kind of you," said Aveline. "But that isn't why we asked you here." Donnic took her hand. "We actually decided to have a baby last year. We've been trying, but it hasn't happened."

Hawke put his fork down. "Did you go to a healer?"

"Several. They were all quick to blame me for it. Everything from, 'you're too old, to 'you could stand to tithe to the Chantry more often.' But when I asked Anders, he said the problem might not be me at all."

"Me," said Donnic. "I haven't been with many women, but neither do I have any bastards running around. My brother never had children with his wife, nor did several of my uncles with theirs. It likely runs in my family." 

"Which is why we've asked you here." 

Sweet Maker. Hawke suddenly understood. 

Aveline was his oldest friend. They had survived the Blight together, lost loved ones together, and built a life in Kirkwall together. There were few people in the world he trusted more. That she would ask this of him was tender beyond words. 

"We've known each other a long time." Aveline's eyes were damp. "I do not ask this lightly, but there is no one in our lives who is as brave, intelligent, and unexpectedly kind as you.”

"You've been a good friend,” said Donnic. “We hope you'll say yes.”

Hawke was on the verge of tears himself. He had never wanted children, but the thought of a little red haired boy or girl running around with his eyes, knowing it would be cared for by his best friend and her kind husband, stirred a desire in him that he hadn't known existed. Yes, he wanted this. He wanted to make Aveline and Donnic’s dreams come true.

“Yes,” he said, bolting up. “Of course, you silly gooses, a thousand times yes.”

Aveline and Donnic stared at him, alarmed. 

“You were going to ask me to help you get pregnant,” said Hawke. “Right?”

“No,” said Aveline. “We were going to ask Fenris.”

All the air left the room. Hawke gaped open-mouthed like a fish.

“We invited you here because you and Fenris are together," said Donnic. "We didn't want to leave you out of the discussion.”

“But…” Hawke’s mind was spinning. “Why him?”

Fenris glared at him.

“I mean, this is unexpected.” Hawke lowered himself back into his seat. “You and I have been friends longer, Aveline. I just thought between the two of us, it would be me.”

Aveline blushed. “That’s very flattering Hawke, but you’re like a brother to me. And Donnic is closer with Fenris than he is with you, so…”

“Fenris is a fine-looking man,” said Donnic. “He’s healthy, smart, strong, and dear to us both. It makes sense.”

“Oh, and what does that make me, a gouty whore?” said Hawke.

The room went very quiet. 

"Why don’t we cut into this cheese," said Donnic.

Hawke watched numbly as Donnic scraped the crumbly, blue-veined cheese onto crackers. 

“Is it because magic runs strongly in my family? Because he has a mage sister, you know," said Hawke. 

“No, though that was certainly part of our consideration,” said Aveline.

“Well, if your child does turn out to be a mage, be sure to tell it that."

“That’s not what I meant! We simply don’t want our child to have a hard life.”

"Yes, because being elf-blooded won't make things difficult for a child at all." 

“I’ll do it,” said Fenris.

 _“What?”_ said Hawke.

“I would be honored to help you have a child, Aveline. And honored to help you be a father, Donnic," said Fenris.

Hawke couldn’t think of a damned thing to say. He had gone from euphoric, to confused, to humiliated in the span of a minute.

“Thank you,” said Aveline. “I realize the next part of this conversation is a little awkward, but in order to conceive…”

“It is no matter,” said Fenris. “You and I are friends. You bring the cards, I’ll bring the wine.”

Aveline gave a surprised laugh. “Well, that is a relief. I was worried-”

“You need not have been.”

“Wait, I’m not invited?” asked Hawke.

“Why would you be invited?” said Aveline.

“Yes,” said Donnic. “Why?”

“I’m not interested in women, _Donnic_ ,” said Hawke. “But I’m his lover. I should be there to—”

“To what?” asked Fenris. “Supervise?”

“To uphold propriety.”

“You’re welcome to sit downstairs while—you know,” said Aveline.

“Oh, thank you. So generous of you to let me in your house while you're panting under my lover.”

“Do you not want this?” asked Aveline, angry now. “Because we asked you here as a courtesy. I have no interest in destroying your relationship if this request is too much for your pride.”

"And if it is?" asked Hawke. 

The hurt on her face was as good as if he had stabbed her. 

"It does not matter," said Fenris, in a cold voice. Hawke dared not look at him. "I would do this for you regardless." 

“Good,” said Aveline. “Thank you.”

Fenris raised his glass. “To new beginnings.”

“Yes,” said Donnic, awkwardly, raising his own glass. “To new life.”

Hawke reached for the bottle and found it empty. “You wouldn’t happen to have any more of that Ghislain white around, would you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was everyone else's Thanksgiving?


	2. Chapter 2

It was a long walk back to the Amell estate. 

"You've returned! How was dinner-" Hawke dropped his cloak into Bodahn's hands before the dwarf could say another word. The mabari bounced up from the rug in front of the fireplace, tail wagging, and Hawke brushed past him as well. He went up the stairs to his room, where he kicked off his boots and tore off his fleece shirt. The fire had been banked in his absence, and the room was unseasonably hot. 

Fenris came up a few minutes later. Hawke heard his soft tread on the rug, and did not turn from the wardrobe where he was undressing. He waited for Fenris to say something.

Instead, Fenris went to the basin. The water splashed as he washed his face.

 _Fine_ , thought Hawke, bitterly. _Draw it out._

Neither of them looked at each other as they turned down the bedclothes. Fenris got under the covers and picked up his book from the nightstand. Hawke got in on the opposite side, purposefully laying with his back to him. He stared into the fireplace, listening to Fenris turn the pages.

"It must have been strange for you," said Fenris, just as Hawke was falling asleep, "to be passed over for something."

Hawke sighed. "Fenris-"

"How unexpected, that Aveline and Donnic would choose me instead of you." 

"It wasn't my intention to make you feel that way."

"And yet you did." 

Hawke sat up. "I just thought that Aveline and I were closer than that."

"You assumed that your qualifications outweighed mine to be the father of her child."

"It's not about _qualifications_. I thought I was her best friend." 

"While I am just a friend." 

"Yes." 

"You don't think my history with Aveline and Donnic is as valuable or as important as yours?"

"That's not-"

"Here is my opinion." Fenris closed his book. "I think you were stunned that they would ask an elf."

"Oh, don't go there." Hawke rocked off the bed and went to the fireplace. 

"You were insulted that they would ask an escaped slave to help them have a child instead of you. You are used to people seeing your value, while I am considered valueless by default." 

It was true, but Hawke couldn't figure out a way to say so without incriminating himself. "That doesn't happen all the time." 

"It happens enough."

"Well, fine, this time you won. You get to make Donnic and Aveline's wildest dreams come true. Have fun giving it to her while I eat canapes downstairs." 

Fenris muttered something.

"What was that?" asked Hawke.

"I said, you are selfish." Fenris slammed the book down on the nightstand. "They are desperate for a child, and you somehow manage to make even that about you." 

"I'm happy for them, believe me, but they could have delivered their decision more delicately. I mean, what do you want me to say, Fenris? That it doesn't hurt to be passed over?"

"You are behaving like a brat."

"They involved me. It's no small thing what they asked." 

"No, it isn’t, but I see no reason to deny them as you seem determined to do.” Fenris’s lip curled. “Have a care for someone else's pride, if you can be so bothered.”

Fenris blew out his candle and lay down with his back turned to him. Hawke stood by the fireplace, a thousand wry retorts and barbs fading away as the moments passed. Eventually, he crawled back into bed and blew his own candle out, the cold expanse of bed between them.


	3. Chapter 3

Aveline and Donnic sent a letter the next day, asking if Fenris was free that afternoon.

“Didn’t take her long to warm up the oven,” murmured Hawke over breakfast.

Fenris shot him a look so disgusted that he was chastened into silence. Eventually, Fenris pushed back his chair.

“Stay at home,” said Fenris. “I don’t want you there.”

“Fine,” said Hawke. “Enjoy being with a woman.”

Fenris threw his napkin down and walked out. The front door slammed shut behind him.

Hawke stared down at his unfinished bacon and eggs. The silence of the house was complete. Feeling chilled, he took his coffee and sat in front of the fireplace in the foyer.

He wasn't sure why he was such an ass. Bethany used to say he was a miserable man, so he made a point of despising other people in their happiness. It wasn't without truth. Watching other people bask in joy always made him feel excluded and lonely, even though he never lacked for love himself. Maybe Fenris was right, Maybe he was selfish. 

He turned over the moment when Aveline had revealed her choice to have Fenris father her child. What had he felt, honestly? Embarrassment, yes, confusion, absolutely. More than that it had been shock.

In that moment, his first thought had been a cruel one: why would she pick Fenris instead of him?

Why pick an elf with no title when a human Champion was sitting right there?

The garden door opened. Orana came inside with a basket full of sweet potatos, humming to herself. The mabari pushed past her legs, and she caught his collar with one hand. "Ah-ah!"

To Hawke's surprise, Barnabas let her shove him back outside.

"Muddy Paws," chided Orana, shutting the door. She startled a little when she looked up. "Oh, Messere Hawke. I didn't see you there."

"Good morning." Hawke never knew what to say to Orana. The girl always seemed a little frightened of him, which put him on edge. "Squash coming in?" 

"The soil we bought helped. They're much bigger than last year's."

"We can bake them in the oven tonight," said Hawke.

Orana nodded. He sensed she was eager to get away from him. Instead of letting her, he asked, "Orana, did you ever want to have children?"

A blank expression came over her face. "Why do you ask, messere?"

"My friend Aveline has babies on the brain, and now I do, too. Have I offended you?" 

"No, messere." Orana turned her attention to the fire. "My papa always protected me from that. Magister Hadriana would sometimes pick girls to have babies with male slaves, to sell when they got older. Papa told her I was simple, so she never chose me."

Hawke felt like a bastard. "I'm so sorry." 

"It's all right. It was a long time ago. I always wanted children, but not like that. Maybe it will happen one day." 

Hawke wondered at the prospects of a traumatized ex-slave who was too afraid to leave the house. His gut told him the girl would become a spinster, or else fall prey to some animal who would see her as little more than a tool to darn his socks and warm his bed. The thought depressed him.

But he had once had similar predictions about Fenris. Fenris, the angry ex-slave who seemed content to gnaw his griefs to the bone. Fenris, who wanted a future, but made no efforts to claim it. 

Fenris, who some part of Hawke still thought of as _less than_. 

"I'm sure it will happen for you," he said. 

"Thank you, messere." The girl curtsied. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Actually, yes. Are there any flowers left in the garden?"

* * *

Hawke turned up his collar. The street outside Aveline and Donnic's house was empty, save for an old woman shelling peanuts on her stoop. He knocked on the door. 

No answer.

Donnic was probably out, he thought. No man would want to loiter around the house while his wife was impregnated by another man—at least no one like Donnic.

Setting down his basket, he pulled a pick from his pocket. Shielding it with his cloak, he tickled open the lock and let himself in. 

Aveline and Donnic's home was dark and narrow. It was rich with wood paneling and clearly had pedigree, but it still felt like navigating a rabbit warren. Hawke crept down the hall, down a servant stair, past the dining room, into a parlor. He set a bouquet of daisies on the table, then set his basket of warm bread in his lap and sat on the sofa, taking note of the staircase. 

The house was quiet, and he was grateful for that. The thought of his best friend and lover rutting above his head was an unsettling one. 

He had avoided thinking about the logistics of Fenris impregnating Aveline, and now found he couldn't help it. Would they do it from behind so as not to look at each other? Or would they go at it with gusto, shamelessly face-to-face?

Feeling a little lightheaded, he took a loaf of bread from the basket and tore off a heel. Orana had included a pot of warm pumpkin butter, and he dug a pap out with a tiny butter knife and smeared it on the bread. Eating helped prepare him mentally for what he was going to say.

There was a thud upstairs. A door creaked, and footsteps thumped down the hall. Aveline came down the stairs in a robe. She was halfway across the parlor when she screamed. 

"Sweet maker." Hawke threw up his hands. "Cover yourself, woman." 

"You're in _my_ house!" Aveline shouted.

She spun and ran back upstairs. There was a murmur of voices. A lighter tread crossed the hall, and Fenris came down the stairs next, wearing a loose tunic and breeches. "What are you doing here?" 

"I wanted to apologize." 

"Oh?"

Fenris took a step toward closer. Hawke got a whiff of him. "No, sit on the other side of the table. Maker's breath."

Fenris sat down on the sofa opposite. His hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a light sheen of sweat on his skin. That was enough to make Hawke's stomach churn, so he forced down another piece of bread.

"You were right," said Hawke. "I was being selfish. I acted as if I was better than you, and that's not true, because you're better than me in everything."

Fenris's eyes widened a little, but he remained silent.

"You're wittier, more patient, more giving. And despite all that, my vanity still put me on a pedestal. I never want to make you feel like you're lesser, not now, not ever."

"I appreciate the effort," said Fenris. "I know apologies do not come easily to you."

"Don't be an ass about it."

Fenris reached across the table and clasped his hands. Hawke let out a breath he had been holding.

"No, wait, where have those been?" Hawke snatched his hands back and wiped them on his cloak.

Fenris chuckled. "May I?" he said, indicating the bread.

"Help yourself," said Hawke, disgustedly. "No doubt you built up an appetite."

Aveline came down the stairs, this time fully dressed.

"Sorry I was a selfish git," said Hawke.

"It is what you're best at," said Aveline.

"Nevertheless, I robbed you of a happy moment. I'm sorry."

She sighed. "Flowers aren't a bandage, you know."

"I know."

She came around and sat down next to him, helping herself to a loaf of bread.

"I want you to know that you're going to be an excellent mother," said Hawke. "And that you made the right choice."

She smiled. "It's good you approve, because we might have to do this several more times, at least until it sticks.

“I don’t want to know," said Hawke. 

"Not even a little?" said Fenris. 

Hawke picked up a daisy and threw it at him. “Save it for Isabela. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

They sat talking and eating until the sunlight stretched up the wall. Donnic came home, and after a few mild threats to Hawke to never disrespect his wife again, sat down with them. Fenris retrieved the wine from upstairs, and Aveline brought out cold chicken. 

Hawke tried to imagine what it would be like a year from now, when a little boy or girl would be drooling in Aveline's lap. He hoped it had green eyes, like Aveline, like Fenris. He hoped he was a good influence, instead of the miserable person he suspected he would turn into again. 

My family, he thought. Let me do right by you. 


End file.
